436 A FARMER'S YEAR 



to hide his too conspicuous self among the bushes. Presently, 

 with the first burst of pheasants, these jays will rise and cross in 

 their company, for they know well that jays, which, by the way, 

 notwithstanding their slow flight, are very hard to hit, are only 

 shot in moments of idleness and waiting, and will be overlooked 

 when the cocks are flying fast. 



The jays have gone, and for a minute or two there is nothing to 

 study except the light falling on to the boles of the oaks so clearly 

 that the watcher sees every little frond of the grey lichen which 

 grows upon their rugged bark, when suddenly far away, in and 

 out among the trees, passes a swift brown shadow. It disappears, 

 it appears again, it comes near, rocking from side to side on those 

 wide wings which move so silently and carry it so fast. This is a 

 woodcock, one of the most beautiful birds that flies, although 

 coloured in a sombre key. So close does he pass that now the strong 

 light can be seen shining between the mandibles of his tapered bill 

 and on his brown, searching eye. Too late he perceives his danger 

 and twists wildly, but without avail, for the shot catches him and 

 robs him of his life and beauty. Never again can the lovely creature 

 hope to flit across the moon-illumined Norway moss, hugging its 

 young against that pencilled breast. 



Then the pheasants begin to rise in bouquets, so that, for the 

 next five minutes, all is noise and gore and feathers, and some are 

 missed and some are killed and some, I fear, are wounded. When 

 the slaughter is done with and you have time to look round you again, 

 close by, on an oak tree to the right, may be seen a tomtit busily 

 searching for insects among the crevices in its bark. He was there 

 before the firing began and he is still there, for he knows that all 

 this fuss and fluster does not concern him, since no reasonable 

 being wants to shoot a titmouse, and to the fate of the great 

 bullying pheasants he is quite indifferent. 



To-day while I was walking up a ride of Tindale Wood, as it 

 happened without a gun in my hand, a woodcock rose absolutely 

 at my feet, so near indeed that I could observe its every feather. 

 I mention this, because as it flew away the bird did what, person- 



